


Promised Not to Fall

by eyrror



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But They're Messes Together, College student Keith, Diplomat Shiro, Fluff and Angst, Gray Aro/Ace Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Kendo Teacher Keith, M/M, Messy Gays, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Slow Burn, They're Both Huge Messes Tbh, learning to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 20:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15057485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyrror/pseuds/eyrror
Summary: Keith is determined to never shack up with anyone, but in Shiro's first encounter with Keith, he discovers the man is his soulmate. Shiro is taken aback and Keith can’t figure out why until night when they’re fighting over who’s cheating at Mario Kart and he finds the words he first said to the man etched in his soul mark. Scared and feeling trapped, Keith pulls away but inevitably comes around, despite himself.





	Promised Not to Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea in my head since this time last night, so uh, here it is! Please enjoy! 
> 
> Inspired by Human Touch's song, [Promise Not to Fall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaSfjAIcGpQ) (obviously).
> 
> (Currently unbeta'd.)

When Shiro approached puberty, he optimistically wondered what his soul mark would say and what it might reveal about the person he was destined to be with for the rest of his life, living on romantic Japanese tales of finding one’s true love. Little did he know, he would find himself more puzzled than confident in finding his own love when the words “I’m not interested” appeared on his hip in English one night before he hopped into the shower. It was a heartbreaking soul quote, and Shiro was certain he’d never pressure someone who said they weren’t interested in him. He supposed he’d just have to wait till he said someone else’s.

 

On the other side of the world in rural Texas, Keith learned of his own soul quote several years later when messing with his hair. Who knows how long it’d been hidden behind a mop of dark hair, nestled right behind his ear. He refused to look at it. All he knew was that it was short and that it didn’t matter to him. Keith knew that he wasn’t interested in finding a soulmate and that he preferred to go about his life alone. He always had, and he would continue to. From eight till now, he’d remained in a boarding school, his education funded by a state grant for gifted children, but Keith wasn’t sure what was so special about him anyway.

 

Only when he was eighteen did Keith ever become curious what his soul mark said, but even then he refused to look at it. He still hid it under his hair, hating when anyone touched it or when the boarding school director mandated he get his hair cut. Why bother looking when he still never felt interested in anyone sexually or romantically in his life? It’d probably stay that way. And the feeling would only intensify when he got into college, watching everyone fall over each other like fools for romance or one night together. It all seemed so paltry and insignificant compared to his goals and personal growth. He had no idea why it appealed to anyone but everyone around him seemed to be obsessed with falling in love or getting laid and it only served to make him feel even more estranged and intensified his self loathing. Fuck love, he’d be fine by himself. Keith was determined to preserve himself against heartbreak and other things that would make him look a fool, but wouldn’t acknowledge some creeping desire to be loved.

 

~

 

College proved exactly what Keith expected. Horny teens and piss drunk twenty-somethings and not even close to what he’d _hoped_ going to university would be like. He stayed inside his scholarship-funded one bedroom apartment, studying and getting ahead in all of his work. If boarding school had taught him anything, it was that being ahead in your studies never hurt and always gave you more time to screw around with your hobbies in the long run. Keith had decided to pick up kendo, assuming that by some stretch it would bring him closer to his heritage while also distracting his mind. Plus, he just loved swords. It didn’t take him long to master the sport and quickly became sixth dan and was prodded by the dojo’s hanshi to take up a temporary position as a renshi for newcomers.

 

Having enjoyed the sport immensely, Keith was all too flattered to adopt this new role in the dojo. Especially since it meant having more money in his pocket for other things like video games and a growing collection of novelty swords.

 

~

 

The last time Shiro had a moment to breathe and take a moment to himself was probably back before he graduated college. Becoming a diplomatic assistant and part-time translator for the Consulate-General of Japan in Houston didn’t come with many breaks. In fact, he hardly got a chance to explore the town, let alone the state when he’d begun working for the embassy-like office. So with a short government shutdown, Shiro exhaled and explored what fun things he could do nearby to entertain himself for the next couple of days.

 

With ample optimism, Shiro searched for things that would remind him of home, but less of work. He found a kendo studio not too far from his apartment in the city and began looking into classes. When Shiro was young, his parents had forced him into kendo before they passed; but as soon as they were gone, so was Shiro’s motivation to continue the sport. It felt like an ode to them to reignite his former passion in sword fighting while also being a fun, unique way to not feel obligated to go to the gym later in the day.

 

Classes looked surprisingly cheap and were headed by a college student from the nearby university. Shiro would be lying if he said the instructor photo and bio didn’t intrigue him and seal the deal. He signed up for the course online and paid through their site, determined to arrive fresh to the dojo for the afternoon class after donning a pair of black compression pants, black basketball shorts, and a white muscle shirt. Hopefully the instructor would forgive him for not yet owning a kendogi and hakama.

  
~

 

When he gingerly opened the doors to the dojo, Shiro was pleasantly surprised to see the decor was not a bastardized version of his country, but well-appointed with authentic fixtures. On his left, a young woman piped up, “Hello, sir, are you here for a tour? Or did you sign up for a class today?”

 

Shiro met her eyes with a polite smile, then looked beside her to find the man he’d been marveling at online who was looking over her shoulder at a computer screen. Shyly, he quickly looked back to the receptionist and nodded, “Uh, yes, I’m supposed to be on the schedule for the 2 o’clock class?”

 

“Sure, hon! What’s your last name?” She asked cheerfully, pulling up the roster for the day’s classes.

 

“Shirogane,” he replied casually, looking around the dojo and trying to avoid the instructor’s gaze, which was now alternative from the receptionist’s computer and piercing his very being in its suspicion of him. Apparently there was something odd on the screen that made him look up with an arched brow and Shiro was determined not to invite anymore ridicule.

 

“Yep, we received your payment a couple hours ago! Class will start in...ten minutes? Right, Keith?”

 

“Yeah, so go do what you need to before we get started,” the raven-haired man shrugged, pointing to the water fountains and restrooms and not budging from his place against the wall. Shiro noticed he’d eyed his prosthetic for a couple seconds, but not with disgust or any kind of rude gape.

 

Shiro nodded curtly and decided to go to the restroom, if anything to splash water in his face and snap himself out of the little daze the small black-haired man had slid him into. It certainly didn’t work, because the diplomat looked into the mirror to find his cheeks blushing. The man hadn’t said hardly a thing to him and he was a flustered mess. After a couple minutes and downing the rest of the water from his gym bag, Shiro looked at his watch and decided now was as good a time as any to come out and join the class.

 

Walking back to the counter, Shiro realized that no other people were congregating at the receptionist’s desk for the class, and that said receptionist had disappeared, leaving him alone with Keith, his instructor.

 

“Where’s everybody else?” He asked curiously, brows reaching just slightly to his hairline of black and white.

 

“You’re the only one, actually. No one does classes at two in the afternoon, frankly. I’m not sure why we schedule them since the kids aren’t even out of school yet,” Keith replied, his arms crossed and shoulders high before sinking down in sync with a sigh.

 

“Are you saying I’m a kid?” Shiro pouted, crossing his muscular arms over a firm chest.

 

“No, I’m saying that you have the skill level of a kid. Totally different,” Keith responded cheekily, and Shiro swore he could see a glint of mischief in the man’s eyes. “Want to get started or did you plan on wasting your money by standing around and staring some more?”

 

Getting caught in flagrante caused the blush Shiro had willed away to return once more to his cheeks, now coloring to the tips of his ears. “S-sorry, of course,” he stuttered out and Keith’s lip quirked up so minutely it was difficult for the diplomat to detect.

 

“Great, follow me. We can get you suited up,” Keith called to him with a beckoning hand as he walked off in the direction of the training room.

 

After loaning Shiro a proper uniform to practice kendo in, they promptly began. It was clear that Keith had no intention of going easy on Shiro like he would a child, which all but threw the diplomat off. Keith had a fairly minimalist style in his teachings, favoring far more application than discussion. He would lunge at Shiro, watch his gut reactions, and then correct him from there.

 

Keith had flung Shiro on the ground far more times than he could count and knocked the wind out of him. In fact, he was pretty sure falling on the ground wasn’t part of kendo and that Keith was just teasing him. Still, the diplomat probably would’ve felt breathless regardless from watching the way Keith’s body moved so elegantly with the practice swords. Not only that, but kendo required the both of them to move very closely against one another before launching into any kind of attack. Keith certainly seemed to favor this technique instead of keeping his distance, using his speed to his advantage. Shiro both loved and detested this: Loved because it gave him so many chances to admire his teacher up close, but detested since it meant he almost always lost since he excelled far better with distance between them.

 

Once they were finished and got some water, Keith helped Shiro out of the hakama and kendogi, throwing it into a pile of training clothes to be washed at the end of the night.

 

“Also, we are actually discontinuing these early afternoon classes for a couple of weeks. So if you want to come back, it’ll have to be later in the afternoon. Say five or six?” Keith offered with a tone far too professional for how what close contact they’d just been in together.

 

With a sudden bout of courage, Shiro asked: “So no more private lessons, Keith?” When the instructor raised a brow in question, he felt himself continue of his own accord, knowing that the next thing he said may well get him in trouble. “Maybe something off book?”

 

“I’m not interested,” Keith frowned at him. Wide eyed, the diplomat stared straight back at Keith, having heard his soul quote for the very first time in his life. He was all at once disappointed by the current conversation but ecstatic for what the future may hold for him and this kendo instructor college student. His emotions settled for guilt for being too forward with who seemed to be his soulmate, so he quickly apologized: “Sure, sure, sorry.” Shiro sputtered, scratching the back of his head and refusing to make eye contact again. It was still entirely possible this handsome kendo instructor wasn’t his soulmate, however unlikely it was. “I’ll still be back, though. This was a lot more fun than I remember it being when I was a kid,” Shiro mentioned, trying to shift both his mental and present attention away from his soul mark.

 

“I didn’t get into this until last year, so it’s never too late.”

 

“It feels like it. But hey, the kendo you learn in Japan stays in Japan.” Shiro joked, knowing damn well he didn’t remember anything from his old lessons so all that learning definitely did stay in Japan, completely unused.

 

Keith seemed to perk up at this. “So you’re actually from Japan? I just thought you had an unabashedly Japanese name and refused to toss in a token American name to ‘make it easy’ on white people,” he chuckled and Shiro felt his heart thump in response to the sound.

 

“Yeah,” Shiro smiled brightly at him, excited that Keith had still taken interest in him in some respect. “I work as a translator and diplomat at the Embassy downtown.”

 

“Kinda cool, if you ask me. Maybe next time we can talk about it some more,” Keith suggested. “Right now I have to do some paperwork for the dojo, thanks to your lessons,” he groused. “I’ll see you next week?”

 

“You will,” Shiro affirmed, smiling and offering a small wave as he walked out of the dojo.

 

On the bus home, Shiro had a soft smile permanently plastered to his face. While he didn’t expect his soulmate to still be in college, he was nothing short of perfect regardless. Angular and thin, but lithely muscled with lovely dark eyes and even darker hair. He kept seeing himself getting thrown to the ground by the man and cherishing every moment of being on his back, below Keith, and even the times when the raven-haired man pressed their bamboo close, their hands and knuckles just barely ghosting over one another in their dance. Safe to say he was excited for next week. Shiro would make time to come to lessons that he wouldn’t normally had just so he could see Keith, even if he didn’t plan on coming onto him in the process.

 

~

 

The next week when Shiro arrived for kendo, there were far more participants, and they’d already begun training. He looked down at his watch to find that it was half past five and completely horrified: Shiro had missed half of training already because he’d gotten held up at the embassy. He quickly changed into the dojo-provided gear and stepped into Keith’s training room, clearly anxious and feeling horrible.

 

“Good of you to join us, Shiro. We’re about to do a partner exercise and I need to teach, so everyone pair up to spar,” Keith announced, a half-smile gracing his lips. Shiro was breathless and relieved that he didn’t receive further admonishing from the instructor, knowing that being late reflected horribly on him.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, turning to the closest and oldest person to him when he walked in the room, a tanned college student who immediately gave him a flirty smirk. “Uh, hi, Shiro,” he introduced himself.

 

“Lance,” the kid responded back with a sly grin and shrug.

 

“Get into formation, demonstrate what we’ve just learned,” Keith requested of the class, who all got into stance.

 

“But I wasn’t here—” Shiro began, looking at Keith with a puzzled expression.

 

“I guess you’ll figure it out then,” Keith arched a brow in amusement, turning his back to Shiro to assist with the youngsters in the class. It certainly wasn’t fair, but few things seemed to be when it came to his attractive kendo instructor. He didn’t mind.

 

Shiro was snapped out of his trance when hit by bamboo, already defeated by Lance’s first strike.

 

“Come on, big guy, give me a challenge,” the brunette jibed, smacking their bamboo together repeatedly to bring Shiro back to reality. In a moment, Shiro had effectively dismantled Lance’s held defense and gained a point on him.

 

After some sparring and criticisms from Keith, Shiro felt like he was finally getting the hang of it and was winning more often than not. Before long, the session was over and Lance pouted his way to the water fountain. Once all the other classmates had left and Shiro politely bid Lance goodbye and thanked him for being his partner, Shiro stuck back to talk with Keith.

 

“Hey—”

 

“I’m glad someone finally bested Lance. He’s always been too cocky,” Keith chuckled.

 

“Oh, well, no problem, I guess? I’m sorry about being late, though.”

 

“It’s all right. I get paid to stick around till 6:30 if you want to make up for the half-hour you missed,” he offered, smiling somewhat at Shiro, who was pretty sure his lungs would tighten so much they’d give out at the sight.

 

“If it’s not a bother for you, I’d like that,” Shiro responded, smiling back and thankful he left his uniform on when he came to speak with Keith.

 

“Let’s get started then.”

 

Shiro was pretty sure Keith was even harder on him this time, but he came back with an equal amount of force and effort to beat and best his instructor, which actually happened a couple of times. The fight then criticize approach might be paying off, to the diplomat’s surprise.

 

“After this, do you want to come play video games and I can tell you about Japan? You seemed interested last time I mentioned it, and I believe you wanted to hear more about what I do,” Shiro panted in the midst of their private sparring session.

 

“I already told you, I’m not interested,” Keith repeated, narrowing his eyes and catching Shiro off guard enough to win their mini-match.

 

“Nothing funny, just...being friends. Is that okay?” Shiro assured him, pointing their practice weapons toward the ground to signal he was done.

 

Keith hummed as if deliberating, then spoke once more: “I guess so.”

 

Shiro had to wait a little for Keith to close up the dojo since he was the last one out, but he didn’t mind, especially absentmindedly watching the man dart from one side of the studio to the other to catch up with some chores. More than once did Shiro offer to help, but only received a glare and eye roll from Keith.

 

Once Keith began heading for the doors, Shiro followed after him like a lovesick puppy, not sure what to do or where to go but with the raven-haired college student and his penetrating eyes. Keith locked up shop and then looked to Shiro, “So, your place, I’m guessing?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” the diplomat remembered. He’d invited the other over. “It’s this way. Are you all right with walking? I’m like a mile away.”

 

Keith responded with a lazy shrug, sliding the dojo keys into his pocket. Their walk home was fitted overwhelmingly with Shiro discussing what he did for a living and what a pain in the ass politics were.

 

“Sounds like relationships,” Keith commented with an almost bitter tone.

 

“How so?” Shiro wouldn’t disagree, but he was interested in hearing the other’s point of view on the matter.

 

“They’re complicated and there’s way too much dancing around instead of people saying what they want. And even then, being asked for things we have no interest in giving is a whole new ordeal,” he answered with a frown.

 

“What about soulmates? Don’t soul marks make it more straight forward?” Shiro asked curiously.

 

“I’m not into that. I’d rather be alone than spend my existence finding a soulmate that I don’t want to be with anyway.”

 

“Doesn’t that defeat the point? You’re supposed to want to be with them, right?”

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to be with anyone, frankly,” he shrugged, looking straight ahead and frowning ever so slightly. Shiro could sense this was something Keith thought a lot about, even if the kid didn’t want to admit it. “I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is everyone’s obsession with falling in love and having sex like it’s the only thing that matters.”

 

That hit a little close to home for Shiro, as someone who fantasized about who he would end up with. But when he first found his soul mark, he knew that whoever he was meant to end up with, whether he’d be with them or not in the long run, wouldn’t be easy. Even then, Shiro had no intention of catching and claiming Keith in the slightest. He wanted these things to come naturally, even if the universe had predestined their relationship. Keith still had the liberty to reject him, and Shiro would fully respect that, even if it meant not being together.

 

“If that’s what you want, then no one should stop you,” Shiro told Keith with a slightly forced smile. He meant it, even if it hurt to say.

 

“Tell that to whoever has my soul quote,” Keith snorted.

 

They continued to walk and talk about random subjects until they reached Shiro’s lavish apartment, Keith looking around at every little object as they ascended the stairs to the elevator. “They pay you dignitaries pretty well, huh?”

 

“With the back-breaking hours, they really ought to,” Shiro laughed, pressing the button for his floor followed by the close-door button. Once they got out and the diplomat stepped up to his front door, he pulled out his phone and tapped it to the lock, hearing a click and then turning the knob to go inside. Even this seemed to amuse Keith.

 

“Do you want anything to drink?”

 

“I don’t drink much,” Keith answered absently, walking up to the window of Shiro’s apartment to admire the view.

 

“You don’t hydrate?”

 

“Hydr—oh. Sorry, sure, I’ll take water. Sorry, reflexive reaction in college.” Keith revised his answer and then sat down on the leather couch across from a large TV.

 

“It’s all right, no worries. I don’t really drink for my own reasons, so it’s not like I stock up on alcohol anyway,” he shrugged, grabbing some glasses from the cupboard and filling them with water from the fridge before sitting down with a respectable distance between him and Keith. When he handed over the water, he set his own down and ran his hand through his hair. “So what do you like to play?”

 

“Do you have a Switch?”

 

“Tch, yes,” Shiro answered incredulously, being a Nintendo boy since birth, pulling out the controllers from the drawer in the coffee table in front of them and clicked on the TV. “Want to see who’s better at Mario Kart?”

 

“I think we both know I am,” Keith challenged, smirking at Shiro mischievously.

 

“Oh, it’s on.”

 

Loading up and fired up with anticipation, Shiro knew that he’d probably let Keith win anyway, but that it was still fun to see the man’s competitive nature. Which was the main thing he’d seen of Keith besides a biting sense of humor and couple smiles flashing across his features, but he adored it all the same. After a couple games lost, Shiro decided to stop going easy on Keith and to begin stepping up the pace.

 

“Hey, when did you get good?” Keith narrowed his eyes at Shiro when he narrowly beat him on the last lap.

 

“I dunno, guess I needed to warm up,” he chuckled, starting the next track for them. And when Keith beat him this time by a large margin, he looked over incredulously, realizing they were _both_ going easy on one another.

 

“Okay, for real this time. I know what you’re doing,” Shiro warned, wagging his finger at Keith, who attempted to stifle a smile and laugh but failed in such a lovely, beautiful way. “Best two out of three?”

 

“You got it, old man,” Keith teased, cracking his knuckles and ready to unleash the full force of his Mario Kart expertise.

 

First game went to Keith, earning a pout from Shiro who finally resolved it was just time to kick Keith’s ass. At the end of their second match, Keith’s mouth opened as if to say something, and then closed instead with a sigh.

 

“Think you’re gonna win?” Shiro taunted.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

And then he didn’t. Shiro blasted past Keith’s cart, taking advantage of every single drift as if he’d been playing competitively for years across any console and even taking a shortcut that Keith didn’t even know existed. When the match was over and Keith crossed the finish line a full fifteen seconds after Shiro won, he looked over at the diplomat who wore a shit-eating grin and stared straight back at Keith in triumph.

 

Keith’s eyes widened in frustration and he pressed his lips into a tight line, calmly setting the controller down on the coffee table before lunging at Shiro and pushing him back on the couch arm, “You _totally_ cheated! What the fuck was that!” The raven-haired man took the back of his hand and slapped Shiro in the chest with none too much force, but that didn’t stop Shiro from laughing and catching his wrist to stop him from trying again.

 

“It’s not like I was purposely distracting you by touching your leg with my feet like you were!” Shiro scolded back, not believing that the other would accuse him of cheating in a totally fair and square win.

 

“I was shifting, you moron!” Keith all but yelled, his eyes as dangerous and mercurial as fire but lips curved up uncontrollably in a smile. When Shiro laughed at him again, Keith tried to plant a hand right over Shiro's face to shut him up, but his other wrist was also caught and held.

 

Somehow, in that moment, time slowed down for Keith. He noticed that he was practically straddling the lap of a man with his legs crossed and had his wrists restrained. The raven looked into Shiro’s onyx eyes with lips parted, realizing how insanely handsome the man under him was. How much fun he’d been having. That he never remembered feeling like this before for anyone else.

 

And Shiro stared right back at him, stunned and silent, eyes searching Keith’s for an explanation of his thoughts, of what was happening. Before he could ask aloud, Keith leaned down and kissed him, the younger man’s body melting and forming into his own. Shiro could hardly think and his grip on Keith’s wrists went slack, merely caressing them now. Then Keith parted his lips and kissed his bottom lip gently, cautiously. This action alone made Shiro gasp as he felt heat rise straight to his face; he let go completely of Keith’s wrists, and thus the boy instead reached up to cup Shiro’s face, deepening their kiss.

 

Shiro let out a small noise deep in his throat, not believing he could be so lucky to kiss the man he was destined to be with for all eternity. Pressing back with more passion than he probably should have with someone who just told him he never wanted to have anything to do with another human, Shiro couldn’t help but reach just a little more. When he placed his hands gingerly on Keith’s hips, the man pulled back and Shiro was terrified that everything would stop and Keith would run away.

 

But he didn’t. Instead, he reached down to the hem of Shiro’s workout shirt and pulled it over his head, enthusiastically touching the muscled chest before him and returning their lips together once more. Shiro didn’t even think about the soul mark on his hip being visible just above the waistband of his sweats, he only moaned against the kiss and splayed large hands across Keith’s clothed back, fingers pushing and pressing and lessening pressure in their excitement and uncertainty.

 

He parted their lips experimentally, seeing if Keith felt courageous enough to dive in with tongue. By some miracle, he was, and Shiro let out another low groan, pulling the smaller male against his bare chest, realizing how hard he already was when he felt their cocks brush. “Okay, I lied, you are so hot,” Keith laughed breathily.

 

“Fuck, Keith,” Shiro breathed, leaning his head against the sofa arm and resting his hands on Keith’s thin waist. After a moment, a look of fear flashed in the younger male’s eyes.

 

“Sorry, fuck, I don’t—” Keith panted, leaning back and raising his hands away from the gorgeously ripped body below him. Realizing he was still seated in Shiro’s lap, he attempted to crawl off, only to have strong arms wrap around his waist and keep him close, but not tight enough to actually restrict the man above him.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry,” Shiro reassured him, now sitting up and pressing his face into Keith’s shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be like this or continue, just please don’t run.” The diplomat’s heart hammered, threatening to burst out of his chest in anxiety. He couldn’t lose Keith like this.

 

“I should go.” Keith responded, his body tensing in the embrace, putting his hands up on Shiro’s chest to ready himself to push off.

 

“Please, Keith. It’s okay. It doesn’t have to change anything,” Shiro plead, pulling back with the saddest eyes the college student had ever seen. He relaxed, if only slightly, in Shiro’s arms. “I mean it, this doesn’t need to happen again, and I don’t expect anything from you.”

 

“Okay,” he sighed, looking away from empathetic onyx eyes.

 

“Keith?”

 

The raven looked back cautiously, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.

 

“You’re not broken because you don’t have those feelings,” Shiro assured him, smiling softly. Keith closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, letting out a sigh and leaned forward to press his face into Shiro’s shoulder. He did have those feelings, though. But Keith wouldn’t admit that to himself or anyone else. Right now he was just scared and frazzled, feeling like the frayed end of an electrical wire and out of control. Still, Shiro managed to make him feel safe, so he allowed it. Touch starved and touch repulsed all at once, he allowed it.

 

Eventually they pulled away and Shiro got up to order them takeout, allowing Keith to glance the soul mark on his hip bone when he turned. Keith’s jaw clenched, realizing he’d said those words mere days ago to Shiro, but pushed the thought to the back recesses of his mind to deal with another day. Still, as soon as they were done eating, Keith made an excuse about homework and ran off. Shiro knew it was a lie, but at least the kid had stayed and calmed down. He was thankful for that much and he made sure to exchange numbers to make sure Keith got home safe. Surprisingly, he notified Shiro he was back at his apartment, and once more he was grateful for the little displays of courage Keith showed for him.

 

~

 

“I’ve been chasing who I am for so long,” Keith commented morosely, refusing to look Shiro in the eyes as they sat on a park bench, warm matcha in hand. “Kendo made me feel like I was connecting to that, even if I had no idea where my parents came from or if they actually cared for traditional fighting. They probably didn’t. But it’s nice to finally meet another Japanese person. Or, at least, one that’s not like fifty. Or annoying as fuck. Your hair says you’re fifty, but your face says mid-twenties. It’s a fair compromise.”

 

Shiro let out a laugh at this, knowing that teasing him about his hair had become a common occurrence and always in good fun between them. He snuck a glance at Keith to find a small smile bending his lips. “Well, if you ever have any questions, or even want to learn Japanese, just let me know.”

 

“You might regret that offer,” Keith warned him, looking back and seemingly visibly stunned when their eyes locked with penetrating gazes. After several moments, the raven-haired man looked away and coughed and Shiro found his shyness more endearing than anything he’d known. Keith had texted him to meet for coffee somewhere between their apartments, which only meant that the kid was probably feeling troubled.

 

“So, is there anything going on lately? You seem off,” Shiro asked, his brows furrowed. He knew that springing the question on Keith didn’t give him any favor in his search for answers, but he’d try nonetheless.

 

“I feel hollow.” Keith answered, straightforward just like his eyes into the park.

 

“Why?”

 

“I’ve been in school for three years now and I still don’t really have any friends,” he mused, lifting the warm cup to his lips and cradling it in his hands after taking a sip.

 

“Hey, what are _we_?”

 

“Good question. What do _you_ think we are?” There was an unexpected amount of suspicion in Keith’s voice that Shiro didn’t know how to answer to, so he remained quiet in his shock. “You’re probably just hoping I put out or something.”

 

“Keith, no.” Shiro interjected firmly, eyes serious as they bore into the side of Keith’s face. “I want to be whatever you need from me. If that’s a friend, then it’s more than I can ask for.”

 

“But that’s not what you really want, is it?” He all but hissed, glancing at the diplomat from the side with narrowed eyes.

 

“What do you mean, Keith?”

 

“I...saw your soul mark,” he muttered, swallowing before continuing. “When we made out.”

 

“Oh.” Of course that’s what this was about. Keith felt pressured and trapped. Shit. It was the last thing Shiro wanted for him.

 

“I know that I said yours, I’m not an idiot. But you never even told me that I did.”

 

“I didn’t want to scare you. Or make you uneasy.”

 

“It was bound to happen anyway. So I guess I’ll tell you that I never plan on taking a lover or anything of the kind.” Keith looked him in the eyes once more, his eyes hard and exuding power. “I want to be alone. You’re not going to get what you want with me.”

 

“Keith, that’s not what any of this is about. I genuinely enjoy your company and I like hearing what you say and think. Even I know there’s a lot of speculation around soul marks and how much credence we should lend to them,” Shiro reassured. He wanted to touch Keith, but knew that if he tried, the man would only distance himself more. “Maybe soulmates can be platonic,” he lied, hoping in some way to ease the tension between them but knowing that this wasn't the case for soul marks. They were pretty definitively romantic.

 

“Sure it’s not about that,” Keith responded briskly, jaw locked and ignoring any of Shiro’s attempts to diffuse the situation. “Don’t expect me to roll over for you just because you have a tattoo with something I said on it.”

 

“I don’t,” Shiro said, feeling like it was the right time to raise a hand to cup Keith’s shoulder, both to comfort and to stir Keith from the negative spiral he would inevitably throw himself down. “I expect you to be open with me about your feelings and for us to be friends, if you’ll have it. Just this is perfect.”

 

At this, Keith seemed to calm a bit, taking in a deep breath and letting it out as he looked down at the ground. “Okay.”

 

“Okay,” Shiro smiled, letting his hand drop from Keith’s shoulder now. The conversation seemed to stop naturally there and the both of them just looked over the park, watching its inhabitants walk their dogs, hold hands, and take their children to the playground while they silently but comfortably sipped their matcha. When the sun had begun to set, Shiro brought up that maybe it was a good time for him to start walking Keith home, who shrugged in response but ultimately got up from the bench and headed in the direction of campus.

 

He wouldn’t tell Shiro, but Keith really did appreciate Shiro. He was just scared that like anyone else, the man would desire things he wasn’t willing to give. Even if there was some semblance of romantic feelings that he wasn’t familiar with in the slightest. It scared him and prompted him to catastrophize, to assume that Shiro was going to somehow hurt him. This was exactly the kind of thing Keith had been trying to avoid for just over twenty years of his life, and here he was, walking backwards into the hell he created for himself.

 

~

 

Keith resented that he was developing feelings for Shiro, especially to the point where one morning he peeled his hair away from his left ear and held a mirror to reflect his soul mark’s quote. Three words, just like he remembered. Nothing strange or significant, and nothing that Shiro had said. Or probably would ever say. Keith acknowledged that allowing himself to be hopeful was ignorant and futile, because never in his life would he be so lucky as to have a soulmate he actually was interested in. It’d be disappointing and unfair like the rest of his life to be paired with an asshole as his soulmate instead of someone kind, caring, sweet, handsome… Keith sighed. Like Shiro. He shook his head, as if to physically dislodge the thought from his brain. Enough time had been spent worrying over something Keith didn’t feel he deserved. There was a possibility Shiro never said his soul quote and wasn’t his soulmate even if he were Shiro’s; it was a bold-faced lied to himself but it kept him from lamenting over the thought any longer.

 

His phone buzzed with a text from Shiro, asking whether or not he wanted to go for a walk near the Buffalo Bayou on his lunch break. They’d been meeting up during Shiro’s lunch break for the past couple of days, just hanging around town and making meaningless conversation until the dignitary had to return to the Japanese General-Consulate. Keith picked up the phone to text a confirmation, saying he’d meet him outside the embassy during his lunch.

 

By now, Keith knew exactly when Shiro took his lunch: Precisely at 12:15 PM. Given that he didn’t have any classes on Tuesdays, the raven-haired boy decided to get an early start on walking to the consulate, taking a route already hugging the water. That day, they seemed to be testing a cannon from a cheesy looking pirate ship. He’d heard about these things in Baltimore, but never thought Texas would adopt the same silly tourism tactic.

 

Keith only had to wait a couple minutes until Shiro stepped out of the building, walking through the gardens in front and beaming when he saw his kendo instructor. He always looked so surprised every time, Keith noted, as if the man thought he would bail at the last second.

 

“What made you want to walk on the water today?”

 

“My coworkers said there’s a good foodtruck down there today, so I thought we might check it out. My treat, of course,” Shiro smiled, his open hand motioning in the direction he wanted Keith to proceed.

 

“Sounds great to me. They’ve also got this silly ass pirate ship down there today, so we’ll probably see that, too. It’s pretty stupid,” Keith smiled, walking ahead of Shiro in the direction of the bayou, his comment prompting a short chuckle from the diplomat.

 

“Good, I can’t wait to see a horrible rendition of a pirate ship in a Texan bayou.”

 

Once they’d acquired their food from the truck Shiro’s coworkers raved about, they sat down on a bench near the water, chatting in between bites of food. When Keith’s mouth was full, the pirate ship came into view and he punched Shiro’s arm, pointing in the direction of the ship.

 

“Lord, that’s so gaudy,” Shiro chuckled.

 

“Yeah, it even has a cannon,” Keith commented after swallowing. As if on command, a loud, thunderous boom clapped through the waterfront and the raven-haired man looked over to Shiro with the intent of making fun of the ship once more, but found the man’s face sheet white.

 

“Shiro?” Keith prodded gently, the man’s eyes unmoving but chest close to heaving. Uncertain of what to do or what was even happening, Keith rested his hand gently on Shiro’s leg and repeated his name. Instead of responding, he shut his eyes and bent over himself on the bench, his face in his hands.

 

“Shiro, talk to me, what’s wrong?” Keith tried again, his hand tightening on Shiro’s leg. Shiro just shook his head and exhaled shakily, breathing in and out for a couple of moments before letting one of his hands drop and grab onto Keith’s. “Can I touch you?” A nod. Keith used his other hand to softly rub Shiro’s shoulders. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever’s happening, I promise it’ll be okay,” he said softly.

 

After several minutes of Shiro’s breathing, squeezing and letting go of Keith’s hand, and the rubbing between his shoulder blades, they finally spoke again. “I’m so sorry, Keith…” Shiro uttered brokenly.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I will be,” Shiro responded, his thumb brushing over the raven’s hand in an attempt to keep himself grounded. “I’m not perfect either, Keith,” Shiro laughed humorlessly, one hand still glued to his temple as if it would ward off whatever just happened.

 

“I didn’t say you were,” Keith teased bluntly, not sure whether or not it was appropriate or not to make a joke yet. When Shiro looked up, almost horrified, Keith immediately felt bad. “Sorry. Shit, I was doing so well, too.” This, however, made a laugh bubble from Shiro’s chest and Keith smiled in relief.

 

“I have PTSD, Keith,” Shiro admitted, looking him in the eyes. “Some things...just trigger it. Usually those things are pretty easy to avoid and I never get placed on assignments that involve looking at graphic war videos. That’s why I don’t drink. I’m scared it’ll bring them back. When I was still in the military, I drank way too much. The taste of sake itself brings back the horror I saw.”

 

Keith stayed silent for a moment, trying to read the situation. “I’m so sorry, Shiro. I didn’t know.”

 

“It’s not typically something I want people to know,” the diplomat laughed half-heartedly. “It’s not the most endearing thing in the world to have a traumatic episode.”

 

“What should I do when that happens?”

 

“Do what you did today. Just...make sure I’m grounded. You touched my hand and my leg and it helped bring me back into the moment. That’s exactly what I need, but I can’t say much for anyone else. It’s paralyzing, so I just need your patience if it happens again. Just like this time.” He replied, smiling softly and looking down to realize he was still holding Keith’s hand. The man hadn’t moved it either and didn’t seem like he intended to; the realization made Shiro flush slightly.

 

“You can count on it, Shiro,” Keith guaranteed him, squeezing his hand. Shiro swore that his lungs did a backflip when he saw the smile on the raven’s face coupled with his hand being squeezed. It was so simple, but Shiro knew it was a huge gesture for Keith. He never doled out physical affection, or even sought it out for the most part. There were some choice times he held his arms out for a hug goodbye and allowed himself to linger in strong arms, but he was nothing like other partners Shiro had, which only made him interested to learn more about his soul mate.

 

The rest of Shiro’s break, they made sure to avoid the water just in case the cannon were to go off again. He still seemed on edge, but with Keith checking in on him when he dazed off a couple of times, he knew that the other man could handle him at his worst.

 

~

 

“Shiro?” Keith spoke into the receiver of his cell phone after the dial tone ceased. “Can I come over?”

 

“Of course you can,” Shiro responded. “What’s wrong, Keith?”

 

“I’m not sure. I just don’t want to be alone,” he exhaled into the phone, running an anxious hand through his hair.

 

“I’ll come pick you up.”

 

“You don’t even have a car, Shiro.”

 

“I will in ten minutes,” the diplomat responded. “I’ll see you outside your apartment in a bit, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Keith muttered, hanging up the phone and searching his room for some clothes and belongings to shove into a bag for the evening. He made sure to grab his toothbrush and deodorant, then descended the creaky staircase from his flat to find Shiro had actually rolled up in a zipcar. Rolling his eyes, he got into the vehicle and gave the man a look.

 

“What? I said I’d pick you up.”

 

“So you reserved a car for what? Thirty minutes?”

 

“Yes?”

 

Keith shook his head in mock disappointment, hiding a smile by looking out the window.

 

Once they arrived back to Shiro’s apartment and parked the rental in its designated spot, Keith barely waited for Shiro to lead him, knowing the place like the back of his hand after months of visits. He only stopped when Shiro had to come and open the door for him, and then walked right past the diplomat into his apartment like he paid the rent himself.

 

“Keith, I got that ice cream you like,” Shiro called out when Keith had already situated himself on the couch, lying down beyond view. When the boy didn’t answer, he frowned and decided to take the ice cream out of the freezer and scoop up a bowl anyway. If Keith didn’t eat it, he definitely would. He walked back to the living room with a bowl and spoon to find the raven face down in the couch.

 

“Keith?”

 

A grunt was all he got in return.

 

“Come on, I’ve got something that might cheer you up,” Shiro said in a sing-song tone, to which Keith rolled over to look up at him, hair mussed up. The elder man set the bowl on Keith’s chest, offering him the spoon. When Keith scooted against the arm of the chair and looked inside the bowl, he attempted to stifle a smile and emphasize an eyeroll, only succeeding at one of the actions. Shiro sat down on the couch next to him, still keeping the distance he always did, and slung his arm on the back of the couch as he clicked on the television with the remote in his opposite hand.

 

Shoveling the ice cream in his mouth, Keith peaked over at Shiro who was just smiling contently and watching the screen flicker. Feeling courageous and craving comfort, he moved close enough to Shiro that he was under the man’s arm. Shiro looked at him after a moment and smiled, leaning his head on Keith’s affectionately and then straightening back up.

 

“Shiro?”

 

“Hm?” Came the response and Keith swallowed in anticipation.

 

“I don’t care if you’re not my soulmate. I know I said I never want to be with anyone, sexually or romantically. But you’re not just anyone. I’m...happy with you. You make me happy and make me feel less alone in the world,” Keith stammered out, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he pulled away from his place under Shiro’s arm to look him in the eye. “And I didn’t know I needed that until I met you. I thought I was fine on my own and that’s how I would be for the rest of my life. If I’d never met you, I would still think and want the same things. But—but now that you’re here, I never want you to leave.”

 

Shiro’s face was an unadulterated, endearing mix of joy and bashfulness, his lips parting and closing to say something but always ending up speechless. He shone like gold and his heart fluttered akin to the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. It felt impossible that Keith would say something like this aloud.

 

“I want you. In every way.” The raven professed as he hitched a leg over Shiro’s, straddling with lap with eyes blazing as he spoke.

 

“Keith…” Shiro whispered, pressing his forehead against the other man’s tenderly, a metal hand gently cupping a head of dark hair. He was flattered and happier than he could have ever imagined, but Shiro still did not want Keith to push himself. “We don’t need to. This is enough. You are enough.”

 

“If I wasn’t attracted to you romantically, sexually, sensually, intellectually—I would never suggest this. You know that,” he assured Shiro, closing the distance between their lips and kissing the other passionately and immediately delving his tongue in to rub against Shiro’s. The elder man moaned, his hand drifting to the small of Keith’s back and keeping the smaller body pinned against his own.

 

Keith reached behind to Shiro’s hand and slid it down to his ass, knowing that he wouldn’t venture so far by himself. With a squeeze, the raven moaned into their kiss, driving his hips into Shiro’s in an effort to stimulate his hardening arousal. Shiro pulled out of the kiss and took off his shirt, tossing it to the ground and began to move his mouth down Keith’s soft throat, choosing a sensitive spot of flesh to suck on and deliberately draw a gasp from the younger male. The raven’s hands tightened in Shiro’s hair, pulling at it ever so slightly.

 

“May I?” Shiro asked, his fingers gently trailing the boundary between flesh and denim.

 

“Don’t hesitate,” Keith grinned cockily, pulling his shirt above his head as Shiro removed him of his jeans. When Keith was bare apart from his briefs, Shiro manhandled him and threw him onto the other side of the couch with his back to the cushions, eliciting a giggle from the younger male at the display of effortless strength. The diplomat’s heart jumped at the sound as he kissed the man he adored on the lips, cheeks, down his neck and chest, finally stopping at his abdomen before slowly and torturously peeling away the strained briefs, precum soaking a spot in the cherry-colored cotton.

 

“Should I stop?” Shiro looked up at Keith, wanting to be completely certain this was what the latter wanted. He received a shake of the head and then looked back to the blushing, lovely cock before him, his hot breath wafting it.

 

“No. I want you to,” he sighed out, the diplomat not missing a beat when Keith ended his sentence, all too happy to envelop Keith’s member into his mouth and moaning low in his throat. The man below him echoed the sound of unbridled pleasure, throwing his head back against the sofa arm, but then quickly picking it up again to watch Shiro suck his entire length down, all the while palming his own cock through his sweats.

 

Instinctively, Keith tangled his hands in black and white hair, desperate for some way to ground himself in the intense sensation of being sucked off for the first time in his life. He’d never wanted nor dreamed of a moment like this before Shiro, and having it brought to reality was almost too much to stand, especially when the other male began to pull off his cock, only to push it back down his throat in a single go. Whimpering desperately with finger tips pleading and grasping, Keith wanted to will himself to last but knew the effort was in vain, especially as he felt Shiro’s other hand stroking himself outside of his pants. The thought alone of Shiro pleasuring himself to Keith could have made him cum.

 

“Shiro—it’s too much,” he choked out, trying to pull the man off of his cock only to succeed but then have his thighs pushed up to his chest and the mouth target his entrance, slipping a hot tongue around and then inside of it. Keith shuddered, quaking in pleasure and arching his back, not sure how much longer he could realistically last. Said hope shattered when Shiro slipped a wettened finger inside of Keith’s quivering hole, allowing some time for adjustment before thrusting slowly but surely. With labored breathing, Keith whimpered out a steady stream of Shiro’s name uttered like a mantra, which would soon turn to a broken yell when the fingers inside of him crooked in _just_ the right way. After only a couple more thrusts and Shiro’s mouth returning to his cock, Keith came down his throat with the sweetest moan of pleasure the man had ever heard and triggered his own release.

 

Shiro swallowed the cum that he missed when groaning out his own release, cleaning Keith up of his spend with an almost sickening gentleness that Keith would hesitate to say he adored more than anything about the man. Once finished, he flopped into the space between Keith and the back of the couch, wrapping arms around his waist and across his shoulder and kissing the crown of Keith’s head. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, Keith.”

 

The raven-haired man let out a soft chuckle, nuzzling against the firm forearm over his chest. “You’re worth every bit of this,” Keith stated softly, his eyes having trouble staying open.

 

“I’m glad,” Shiro said, looking down at his new lover. “But you look cold,” he chuckled, eyes quickly tearing themselves away from pert nipples in shame despite the deed they’d just done.

 

“Because I am,” the other scoffed, crossing his arms over his bare chest and moving the forearm he’d been all but cuddling.

 

“Wear this.” Shiro suggested, picking up his black cotton shirt from the floor and passing it to the other male. After putting it on, Keith looked positively swamped in it and Shiro swelled with pride. Nothing was better than seeing the man he’d just sucked off in his own shirt, smelling of the cologne he rushed to put on before leaving to pick said man up. “You look so handsome,” he crooned, kissing Keith beneath the ear affectionately, earning him a shiver.

 

Afterwards, they fell asleep exhausted in each other’s arms on the couch. At one point, Shiro woke up and felt a kink in his neck and figured this couldn’t be too comfortable for Keith either and decided to move them to his bedroom, carrying the sleepy student bridal style as he drowsily wrapped his arms around a strong neck. After tucking them in under the covers, Keith stirred once more and scooted back against Shiro’s bare chest, eliciting a small, knowing smile from the diplomat as he draped an arm around the raven and drifted back to sleep.

 

Late in the night, Shiro began writhing in his sleep next to Keith, panting and wincing while he thrashed his face from side to side. When the other had so much as moved, Keith had woken up, not used to sleeping next to someone else and already prone to rude awakenings, so when he found Shiro having a nightmare, he resisted touching the man at first and instead thought it might be better to talk to him instead of ripping him out of a bad dream.

 

“Shiro, it’s all right, you’ve got me.”

 

When he didn’t respond to the assurance, Keith leaned over to the lamp on his side of the bed to turn it on and give them light. The last thing he needed was for Shiro to wake up in a dark room with no idea who he was with after having what seemed to be a traumatic episode intertwined with a dream.

 

Some time after Shiro told him about his PTSD, Keith decided to read up on the best ways to approach someone having an episode. He knew what Shiro wanted, but being extra prepared never hurt. He got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring cold water from the Brita into it. When he got back to Shiro’s bedroom, the man had rolled onto his side in the fetal position and had his face in his hands. Slowly and quietly, Keith set the water down on his side table, and sat back down on the mattress.

 

“Shiro, I’m right here, don’t worry.”

 

“I can’t find you,” Shiro strained out, his voice breaking and fists clenching in the sheets. He was still asleep, clearly trying to find his way to Keith, safety, amidst the dream.

 

“I can’t move…” He whimpered, his body shaking. “So cold.”

 

“Just relax,” Keith calmly told Shiro. “I’m going to touch you, all right?” Shiro mumbled in response, so the raven knelt on his knees on the mattress and touched the sides of Shiro’s arms, slowly running them down to his wrists and back up. “I’m here.”

 

Finally, Shiro seemed to calm and his chest was no longer heaving and his breath began to steady. Hands no longer clawing or grasping helplessly. “You’re okay. I’m here,” Keith reassured him, now feeling like it was safe to touch the other male’s face and thus putting his hands on either side of Shiro’s cheeks. Slowly, his eyes slowly blinked open in the dim yellow light of the room, initially blurry but after a couple blinks, Shiro looked above him to see Keith and smiled.

 

“You found me,” he breathed in pure relief. Keith’s eyes widened, merlot purple eyes shining under a sheen of tears begging to fall as hard as he had.

 

“You said it,” Keith murmured incredulously.

 

The smile on Shiro’s face widened uncontrollably and his eyes welled with tears. He immediately knew what Keith meant. They really were soulmates. “I love you,” Shiro admitted joyously, ecstatic to finally say what he’d been thinking for weeks.

 

The raven shook his head in disbelief, dislodging a tear that fell to his jaw. “I love you, too.” He echoed sweetly, leaning down and kissing Shiro deeply, who reached up and tangled flesh and gunmetal fingers into his hair. This time when they took each other’s clothes off, they didn’t stop for a moment, but nor did they rush, as they had in times prior.

 

Every movement was smooth and perfect and it was everything Shiro could’ve asked for or Keith could have imagined. Shiro was endlessly patient and gentle, knowing full well the cautious territory being a virgin came with, especially one so often sex repulsed such as Keith. In the brisk dead of night with the soft sepia glow of the bedside lamp, Shiro didn’t just have sex with him, but loved him dearly and guided him through his second release of the night, fighting the urge to tear up once more and instead clung to Shiro’s shoulder and whimpered out his release.

 

It was everything Keith thought he didn’t want until he realized how perfect it would be with Shiro. And he loved every second of it, just as much as Shiro loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this little (not so little) oneshot!
> 
> Late disclaimer that Keith is gray asexual/gray aromantic in this fic and it is **not** one of those fics where the author says a character is aroace and then they ~*~*~find the right person~*~*~*. This was moreso written from my own experience, so Keith misunderstanding his own feelings is a direct mirror of my own dumb ass lol.
> 
> This time around I wanted to focus more on the relationship development between them than the sex itself, so hopefully that was all right with you guys. I hope it felt like an authentic identity-searching experience, too. :) Please leave a kudos and/or comment if you enjoyed this. It makes my entire month to know you liked my writing. <3 
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [tumblr](https://www.eyrror.tumblr.com) if you want updates on new or continuing fics!


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